After the Party
by MuteBanana
Summary: Sequel to 'The Birthday Girl', but can also be read on its own. It's the night of Molly's birthday and she has just received a lovely present from Sherlock. This picks up right after he admits he has feelings for her. Be warned: Rated M for Sexy Times!


**Note: **After some absence, I finally started writing again. I'm very sorry that the promised sequel took so long... This is it, then. The sequel to **'The Birthday Girl'**. If you haven't read it, maybe head over to my profile and read that one first, it has all the plot leading up to this point. If you're content without any plot and just enjoy the porny bits, stay here and enjoy!

* * *

Molly had just gotten the best birthday present she could imagine only to receive another one that took first place immediately. The evening, as well as the notebook, had been perfect but this was topping everything. Sherlock Holmes, only consulting detective in the world, was currently kissing every coherent thought out of her and she loved it.

For a while their kiss just went on, unhurried and sweet. Sherlock inspected every detail of her mouth and lips at great length and Molly's brain was so flooded with endorphins that after a while she almost felt like she was dreaming all of this. It just seemed so unreal. Much too perfect.

The sensation of Sherlock's fingers (when had his hand left her face?) slowly tracing patterns on her thigh, pushing her dress up higher, was definitely real though. It brought her out of her stupor and she hissed at it. His hand was cool against her heated skin. She tugged more violently at his shirt and Sherlock complied and moved even closer to her, his hand not leaving her thigh. He squeezed it gently while lowering his head to lick a spot under her left ear.

A quiet knock on the door made him stop the licking but he didn't raise his head, just mumbling "no" against her neck. Molly listened carefully and from behind the door came John's voice. "You said it before, Sherlock. The walls are thin. I distinctly heard Molly sob. And Molls, I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable but I'm not going to ignore it if he made you cry." She didn't know if she should answer but Sherlock made the decision for her.

"Go away, John," he yelled at the door, his hand was now roughly and possessively rubbing her thigh. It was quiet after that and Sherlock went back to concentrating on her neck, biting this time. Molly inhaled sharply.

Suddenly the door opened. She could hear John muttering, "right, that's it. Sherlock, it's her b-OH MY GOD! Oh. My. God. I- I'm so sorry, I didn't… I should go."

Sherlock had turned his head again and was staring at his friend with a gaze that was half anger half complacence. John was rooted to the spot, frozen in shock.

"Yes. You _should_ really go. _Would_ you, please?"

"Er, right. Yes. Sorry. I'll just-" he gestured to a spot behind him and started to turn. Before the door closed he said, "_so_ sorry," again.

_Poor John_, Molly thought. She couldn't hold back a small giggle, though. And when Sherlock found a sensitive spot on her neck and sucked gently, the giggle turned into a contented hum. Sherlock seemed to like that noise as he pressed his hips hard against her in response. She could feel his erection and bucked up against him, eliciting a small grunt from him.

"Molly… My plans for the immediate future include kissing you for a bit and then the performance of one to three sexual acts. Will that be acceptable?"

Sherlock's words had tickled her neck and for a second she wasn't sure how to react. No one could be that clinical?! Molly was already waving the romance goodbye in her imagination when Sherlock came up to look at her displaying a boyish grin.

"Oh you-"

She was cut short by his lips finding hers again.

Slowly but steadily, Sherlock's hand massaged its way up Molly's thigh and she instinctively spread her legs wider. The growing ache was killing her but Sherlock moved oh so slowly, with almost reverent caresses. When he sucked at her lip she let out a noise somewhere in between a moan and a huff. If the man wasn't going to go ahead and touch her where it counted she would go crazy. Sherlock seemed to understand and shed his gentlemanly outer layer to abruptly pull aside her knickers and slide an eager finger along her folds. Molly jumped in cheery surprise and pulled his upper body even closer towards her.

Both of them were still clothed, except for the ruffled skirt of Molly's dress now assembled somewhere around her waist, and she was not tolerating the lack of skin to skin contact any longer. While Sherlock repeatedly dipped his finger, not _quite_ penetrating her, Molly bucked against him impatiently and moved her fingers to his shirt buttons. Only after the last one was unfastened Molly put a hand beneath the fabric to rub the soft skin on Sherlock's chest. The muscle there was strong and hard but he still seemed vulnerable.

They were still kissing when she tweaked his nipple experimentally, causing his finger on her sex to finally sink into her. And, oh, that finger was deliciously long and very quickly found all the right spots inside of her. Soon, Sherlock's thumb joined in and began circling Molly's clit with mild pressure. Although she had imagined this moment more often than was decent it exceeded all of her expectations. Her mouth left Sherlock's to breath and a quiet moan sputtered out of her.

"Mmmh-uh…so I guess you've done… all of this before then." Molly hadn't planned on addressing her presumptions on his possible virginity (at least not in this very moment) but it just came out.

Sherlock wasn't affronted, he just answered, "yes, not very often but a few times, several years ago. What makes you say that?" He was now looking straight at her, his fingers still slowly working on her sex. Molly couldn't look away when she shyly announced, "you're very good at it."

Sherlock smiled, gulped, and put the tiniest amount of extra pressure on her clit. "And that surprises you?" he asked in mock offence. "I'm good at _everything_." His smile turned into a grin again and he attacked Molly's face, peppering it with kisses. The word had carried an auspicious extra meaning and the connotations flooding her brain made her shiver with desire. Gathering all her boldness, Molly took his face between both her hands and looked at him. "Prove it!"

"Oh, it'll be my pleasure to. Stay right there!" With that, he – together with his long fingers – was off of Molly and standing in front of the bed. The loss of his weight – and his fingers – caused her to grumble slightly. She stopped, though, when she saw what he was up to. In a time that must have been a new world record Sherlock disposed of his already open shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Immediately he grabbed at his trousers, opened them and slid them down his legs along with his pants. While still disentangling the clothes from his feet he stepped towards the bed to kneel on it again, now stark naked and sporting a proud erection. Most striking, in Molly's opinion, was that he managed all of this without losing his elegance.

Her gaze wandered down his torso and stopped at his groin. Suddenly her mouth watered and she had to gulp heavily, feeling utterly like a cliché. When she realised that she was rather obviously staring Molly forced herself to look up at his face again. She made a move towards him, no real plans having formed about what to do after reaching him. They definitely had to do with his, frankly beautiful, penis though. Before she could grab and/or lick and/or simply devour it – _him_, she reminded herself, _there is a perfect man attached to it_ - Sherlock stopped her in her movement. He raised a hand, and, as if he actually read her thoughts, said, "There'll be enough time for that later on. It's your birthday today and this is for _you_! Now would you be so kind as to dispose of your knickers?"

Molly did as he asked and slid them down her legs. Her upper body was still covered by the dress. Sherlock crawled towards her, covering her body with his again, and kissed her once more. Slowly and languidly. She had spread her legs so he'd settled comfortably between her thighs, every once in a while rubbing his erection on her sensitive skin. She wasn't sure if he was actively teasing or just really didn't know how much she ached to feel him by now. Her left hand was grabbing at the back of his neck while her right was idly stroking the skin on his shoulder blades.

His warm body, almost enveloping her, was oddly familiar yet excitingly new, and Molly felt utterly secure in his strong arms. She let her right hand travel down his back and enjoyed the feeling of his shifting muscles as he softly rutted against her, exhaling small grunts into her mouth. Molly had now spread her legs as wide as possible, not feeling even a whit of shame at the wanton way in which she practically begged for him to finally fill her.

"C-Condom?!" she brought out in a brief moment of clarity, the words muttered against his lips. Sherlock shifted until he was supporting his weight on his elbows not to crush her. Then he turned his head and she followed his gaze. In his right hand there was an already open foil wrapper, a shiny condom waiting to be taken out. How had she not noticed when he'd gotten this?

"Whenever you're ready," Sherlock said. She caught his eyes and for a second was overwhelmed by the amount of emotions she found there.

She quickly recovered though. Well, at least she found her voice. "I'm ready. Very. Yes. _Ready_! So. Ready… Ready for takeoff. Sorry. I mean, …you know. Ready for… I guess I'm rambling." Sherlock chuckled. "I assume you're ready, then?"

Without waiting for an answer, he removed the condom from the wrapper and his hand disappeared between their heated bodies. A bit of shifting later, Sherlock had never broken eye contact, his hand came up again and stroked her cheek. When he traced her lip, Molly could faintly taste the latex of the condom but didn't mind at all. She desperately waited for the feeling of him inside her. The anticipation was dreadfully marvellous and marvellously dreadful.

When Sherlock's erection nudged at her folds Molly whimpered and tried to move closer to him. _Every second now_. But he stopped the movement of his hips and just lowered his head to her neck to suck at it again. He was definitely being a tease now.

"Still ready, you know."

"Yes. I'm aware." His head wandered down to her collarbone and past it until Molly felt his teeth scratching along the seam of her dress that was still covering her upper body. Only now was she aware of how hot she felt because of it.

Suddenly, Sherlock moved a lot faster and it seemed like some dam had broken inside of him. Passionately he bit at the exposed flesh of her chest while the hand not on her face came up to roughly pull the cloth of her dress aside. Then he yanked down her bra just enough to expose the already hard nipple of her right breast and sucked it into his mouth without preamble. Molly moaned at the sudden wave of pleasure he caused.

And that was when he finally entered her. The multitude of sensations was intoxicating. On an impulse Molly moved the hand on his back lower to grab his wonderfully shaped arse and squeezed hard, digging her nails into his soft flesh. Sherlock's breath hitched and she felt his hips stutter forward causing him to completely bury himself in her.

Molly felt fantastically full as she adjusted to the stretch. Then he slowly pulled out and lapped at her nipple. Abruptly, his hips jerked and he thrust back in, biting down on her flesh and making her scream in blissful surprise. His hips stilled again and he was buried deep in her. Molly became impatient. She could feel that it wouldn't take much for her to come. That was if he was going to start thrusting in earnest, for heaven's sake. She wriggled beneath him.

At long last, Sherlock withdrew again and then started to fall into a comfortable rhythm. Molly could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of her body and all the while couldn't quite believe her luck at being there, sharing these moments with him.

Some minutes passed in which Sherlock's thrusting never faltered, precisely following a beat that seemed to exist in his head. Molly didn't notice this as his lips had wandered up her neck again and he was now breathing heavily into her ear, soft grunts escaping him ever so often. Molly's desire was still building even though she was as wound up as never before. Several times she'd thought she was close to shattering but the heat between her thighs just grew without breaking her apart.

In a sudden desire to feel him even closer, Molly wrapped both her arms around Sherlock's shoulders and pulled him towards her. In reaction, his hips began to move faster.

"Oh…Oh Sherlock." Molly's moans grew louder until Sherlock kissed her again and muffled the sounds she made. His tongue found its way around the inside of her mouth intimately, it was as if he hadn't been doing anything else for years.

When he sped up once again, making the headboard of his bed loudly bang against the wall, one of his hands tangled in her hair whilst the other grabbed her thigh, slightly tilting her hips and changing the angle of his thrusts. Suddenly all the pleasure Molly had experienced before paled in comparison to how she felt now. It was utter bliss. An unbelievable heat spread from her sex to her thighs and upwards to cause fiery red colouring all over her chest.

"_Fuck_. YES!" She was shamelessly screaming the words. Sherlock answered with a loud moan and raised his head to look at her again.

"You're so-ahh…so beautiful like this. I can't believe…mhhhmm…that I, that we, haven'tdonethisbefore." By now he was ferociously pounding into her like a wild animal. His hair was clinging to his sweaty forehead. His brows were furrowed in concentration. As much as she wanted to see him, Molly was forced to close her eyes in ecstasy. She felt his mouth on her nipple again, tugging at the sensitive flesh. And all of a sudden, it was too much. Finally she reached to point of no return. Those heavenly seconds before she came, never have they felt so intense.

With a scream, she came, riding out the waves with Sherlock's continuing thrusts. She was faintly aware of him talking again, his words mixing with the sound of the headboard still thudding harshly against the wall.

"Oh my…ah, Molly. I can feel it. I feel _you_! I'm going to… Ahhhh"

Sherlock came with a feral grunt. His forehead landed on her shoulder while he still shuddered.

"Thank you, Molly." The simple statement brought tears to her eyes.

_.:0:._

The next morning Molly was awake before him and decided to surprise Sherlock with a hot cup of tea. When she silently opened the door there was a post-it note attached to the opposite wall.

She read it and was immediately bright red with embarrassment.

"THIN WALLS SHERLOCK, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"


End file.
